


The Arrangement

by Zarlia



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarlia/pseuds/Zarlia
Summary: She is the first in line to inherit the throne of a nation bordering on poverty. He is the son of a wealthy aristocrat with a mean streak and a pension for rebellion. Bound by duty to her country and a promise to his father- an arranged marriage ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m afraid we’re running out of options milady, even the most optimistic projections put us in a scenario where 40 percent of our food sources will be depleted within the next three years.”

“We can try expanding our iron ore productions in the hope of increasing trade. But I’m afraid that without strong allegiances to other nations our chances of surviving are looking grim, and with this year’s winter expected to be one of the toughest…”

He didn’t need to finish for Levy to grasp just how much trouble they were in. Ever since they’d been hit with the black plague that had wiped out half the nation- her father included- things had taken a catastrophic turn for the worst. In the months following the plague the nation had banded together to repair what they could, but with the plague came fear and when all the traders in the world wouldn’t touch their goods with a ten-foot pole, the people- _her_ people - turned to her for resolve.

_Her_ , the still grieving daughter who had overnight, been thrust from her peaceful world of literature to somehow navigate the heavy demands of the political sphere and aristocratic affairs.

“R-right, so I understand then that it’s important for us to form strong allegiances with other nations” she tried her best to keep her voice from breaking at the end.

“Yes, milady”

“Uhm… so how should we best go about doing that?”

“Well, there’s no simple way of putting this” replied one of her advisors, Wakaba, who’d been her father’s childhood friend as well as trusted advisor.

“We’re afraid that considering how severe the situation is, and that we really cannot afford to delay our response to this crisis any further…” added Macao, another one of her advisors.

“Yes, we’ve reviewed the logistics of a number of other possible responses but so far we’ve fallen short. And it’s only after we’ve exhausted all other responses that we even began to think about taking more desperate measures”

“Go on,” she urged them, not liking the way that they seemed to be skirting around the topic.

A collective sigh was released by the two of them before they finally made eye contact,

“We think that the best course of action would for an arranged marriage.”

There was a long pause and it seemed as if all the oxygen had suddenly escaped from the room.

Levy took the time to process the gravity of what had just been proposed. Out of all the things… She hadn’t seen _that_ coming. A new economic plan, radical fiscal policies, quantitative easing measures, expansion into emerging markets – these were all things that she had been expecting – an _arranged marriage!_ Not in a million years.

“Uh I guess I… I mean,” she tried to regain her composure, “who do you propose that I marry?”

_Marry_ , that was a loaded pill to swallow. All her life she had lived under the pretence that she would someday marry out of love. Her parents had, and she had become so acquainted with the topic in all her books. Daydreaming so many different scenarios about how it would all go down. She had entertained thoughts of meeting her prince charming at a ball or fancy state dinner, and sometimes it would be in a simpler setting and she would stumble upon him when she went to visit the market, disguised as someone other than herself. But, an arranged marriage…. Never in her wildest dreams.

“The Redfox heir”

 

* * *

 

“Gajeel, you know running away like this never helps,” said his companion as they made their way down the choking sooty alleyways of London. Down the countless twists and away from the prim and proper part of the city he felt so out of place in.

He offered a mere grumble as way of reply before picking up his pace and charging through on his warpath to _Fairy Tail_. He needed to burn off some steam before he did something he’d regret, like tearing off the head of the next godforsaken noblemen who’d scoff at him from the top of their self-proclaimed pedestals. Besides, if Lily had a problem with his attitude, it’s not like he had to tag along.

 “Coming back with a bunch of bruises and cuts is just going to make things worst” said the man as he stalked behind him,

“I know that it’s been tough for you Gajeel…”

“Don’t give me that crap Lily.” And really, he didn’t need it. The _pity_ or sympathy or whatever it was that had the other man keeping a sharp eye on him these past couple of months. He wasn’t some fucking damsel in distress. He just needed to cool off and there was only one way he knew how to.

_Fairy Tail_ as it had been oddly coined was a makeshift dwelling for the thriving black market. Located in the outskirts of the city, a world away from London prim and proper, it had become something of a sanctuary for people like him – not exactly runaway aristocratic heirs like himself - but the misfits and outsiders of the city.

It didn’t take him long to reach the gigantic establishment, which to anyone else would look identical to the plethora of empty warehouses that littered this side of the city. Walking round to the side of the building he made his way in through the rusted metal door that served as the entrance to the place.

He’d almost forgotten just how rowdy it was inside. Inhaling deeply through his nose he welcomed the familiar smells. The scent of dated hardwood floors, the underlying tinge of blood, sweat and filth, but most prominently the unescapable smell of booze. It may as well have been the smell of home for him.

Stalking towards the bar, he easily maneuvered his way through the sea of bodies, the best thing about the place was that nobody but the barmaid paid him any mind.

“Oye, Gajeel!” Shouted the scantily clad women in greeting, “been awhile since I’ve seen the likes of yer sorry ass round ‘ere”

“Alberona,” he nodded his acknowledgement

“’ell you up for the usual ol’ mate?” She said, jotting his order down in her notebook

“That and whatever Lily wants” he replies, sliding the pennies across the counter top which she immediately swooped up.

“Right then, that’s one London dry for yerself’ and I’ll be sure to save somethin’ fruity for yer friend over there,” she said, turning her head in the direction of Lily who’d taken up to loitering in the back of the room.

He only scoffed at that, “happen to know where I can find Mira?”

 “She’s out back talking with the big cheese, but she’ll be ‘ere in a minute” said the girl as she aggressively scrubbed at the glassware, “why you lookin’ to sign up for a match?”

He nodded and took a swig from his glass. The stuff was strong, burning the insides of his throat and if he hadn’t been so acquainted with the taste he’d have thought that she’d been trying to poison him. Poison or not, it took the edge off, and for the first time in awhile he felt like he could finally breathe.

_When the fuck had his life gotten so bloody complicated_.

_Sorry pa, but I guess I_ _’m not the kind of man you thought I was,_ he grimaced to himself. Ever since his father had passed it seemed as though his tolerance for those aristocratic pricks just about reached its breaking point. Sure, it wasn’t as if things had been peachy before, but then they’d always at least pretended to be polite to his face.

He’d grown up with the shame of being labelled a bastard, a _mistake_ on his father’s behalf that should have never been adopted, and most certainly fucking not _paraded_ around high society like he was _worthy_ of something other than the dirt on their boots _._ These very same people who had taught him that his mother was nothing but a dirty whore, who’d made her living as a prostitute in the back alleys, somehow snaking her way into his father’s heart. And it was through _him_ she had secured herself a sizeable fortune before the _inevitability_ occurred- as those pricks would put it – and she was found face down in the gutter, cause of death; a drug overdose.

He’d only once dared to broach the subject with his father and from the haunted look on his face and unwillingness to even look him in his eyes – as if he was fucking ashamed of something – Gajeel knew that, for whatever those lying pieces of shit were worth, even they couldn’t have come up an impressive and fucked up of a backstory as his own.

“Hey Gajeel,” the light voice of the eldest Strauss sibling snapped him out of his thoughts, “what can I do for you today?”

“Lookin’ to sign up for a match,” he replied promptly, “you know who’s in today?”

“Hmmm let’s see,” she said whilst flipping through her notebook, “well it looks like we’ve got a match with Mermaid Heel coming up in 10, Blue Pegasus isn’t due till this evening and there’s an opening against Sabertooth that’s due to start in an hour”

“Sign me up to go against those Sabertooth punks”

“Right, well if I could just get you to sign here,” she gestured over to a line on her notepad, before handing it to him, “participants are due to be in the arena 10 minutes prior to the match and all the usual rules apply.”

He nodded his acknowledgement, looking forward to finally release all his pent-up anger.

“Good luck Gajeel” she said as he stalked off towards the gym on the second floor.

 

* * *

 

**A/N:** This was a teensy bit short for my liking but I'm a little on the rusty side after a long hiatus. Expect future chapters to be longer, but let me know what you think about the premise thus far :D

~Zarlia


	2. Chapter 2

  _I_ _t was a strategic move._

The words reverberated in her skull as she listened to her advisors' drone on about the merits of their proposal.

 “The Redfox family currently controls a 58 percent stake in the iron ore industry, a resource that remains to be our most domestically traded and exported. Our projections indicate that the industry will continue to grow at exponential rates within the next decade and tracking our own economic data confirms this, as iron ore remains to be the most consistently performing resource within the 15-year period.”

“An alliance with the family would allow us to secure a monopoly over the industry, and in difficult times like this it is important that we are able to give the people security and hope.” At this, they looked away guiltily.

She didn’t know what they expected from her, how she was supposed to _act_ , so she just nodded for them to continue.

“The alliance would give them just that, security and hope. Not to mention that the Redfox lineage is one of the most prestigious amongst high society, dating back to even the Magnolia empire.”

 He had the bloodline of dragons, what more could she want from her future husband.

“Milady, we’d like to hear your thoughts”

 _A strategic move_ , she sighed, because no matter how she looked at it, her advisors were right – this was their best course of action.

“Thank you to the both of you for all your hard work these past few months. I know that it wouldn’t have been easy bringing this forward to me, but I can see that you’ve considered all the available options and you’re right, this is the best way forward.” She took a moment to breathe, forcing herself to put on a brave face in front of everyone, “I’ll leave it to you to contact the courts of the Redfox family and I look forward to hearing about the arrangements.”

And with that, she gave a respectful bow to signify the end of the meeting before taking her leave. Placing one wobbly foot in front of the other as she scuttled down the hall towards her quarters.

 _This was the best course of action, a strategic move, the best for her people, it would give them hope and security_ , she repeated the mantra all the way back to her room.

 _When had her life become such a mess_? She knew that she had a duty to uphold, she had been born into a life of wealth and luxury. Her people had given her the world, and now it was her turn to give them something in return. But then why did she feel like she was betraying some key part of herself by agreeing to this?

There was that unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that she knew would persist no matter how many logical arguments she was presented with. Because, maybe that was just it – she was betraying a part of herself.

Could she really find love like this – marriage was forever - she knew that once the decision had been made and the vows had been sworn there was no going back. She would be married to a man that was practically a stranger. She would bear his children, become the lady of his house and then live out the rest of her life as a miserable old hag, _or worse_.

After all, she couldn’t ignore the fact that more often than anyone would care to acknowledge, her future husband wasn’t by any standard obligated to remain exactly _civil_ with her. It was a dirty secret that had been cast under the rug, but sometimes when she stared long enough at some of the ladies that graced high society she could often make out the hollowness in their cheeks to which they’d tried filling in with heavy layers of makeup and the bruises buried underneath silk embroidered sleeves. If her husband was anything like that… she couldn’t let herself finish the thought.

She was exhausted, and it took just about all her energy to drag herself to her bed before her small feet collapsed in on themselves. Tomorrow she would begin her research on the Redfox lineage – and in more depth – the Redfox heir.

 

* * *

 

Lily watched from the sidelines as Gajeel prepared himself for the match ahead. Throwing a succession of punches at the heavy bag hanging precariously from the ceiling, he marvelled at the pure strength behind each move as they hit their mark with a resounding _slam_.

He chuckled to himself when he came to terms with his own emotions that could only be _pride_ for the man in front of him. Even he himself could hardly believe just how good the other man had gotten over the years.

Almost a decade had passed since he’d first been challenged to a match by the little snot-faced kid whose ego at the time had far outranked his inherent ability. Lily had beaten him to a near pulp that very first match, but as Gajeel continued to pick himself up after every beating they ended up going at it for the whole afternoon, and then almost every afternoon after that.

He had been stubborn as a kid, and not much had changed in that regard, if anything, Gajeel had only gotten more stubborn over time. But it infuriated the shit out of him when his friend would purposely go and pick fights with just about everyone – just about anywhere – at any time. It drove him up the goddamn wall and he’d almost wish that he did knock the little punk out back then.

But for all his friend’s faults what he appreciated most about Gajeel was that he wasn’t one to judge people based on their appearances. And that in itself was something that was incredibly rare amongst high society aristocrats.

The move from Edolas had been tough for the young and impressionable boy that Lily had once been. Sure, he came from a place of wealth and his parents had ensured that growing up he’d been thoroughly trained in the mannerisms and etiquette of high society. But despite even the best education, there was nothing he could do to change the colour of his skin. Being a black man in London was hard enough without having to try mingling with the high society aristocrats that fuelled his family’s business.

He remembered how embarrassed he felt the very first time he’d accompanied his father to one of the functions, how they had all ogled at him like he was some sort of circus freak. And to them, he may as well have been, for the hushed whispers they always descended into whenever he walked too close, and how they would shuffle their daughters away from him.

It had been tough.

But what he was most ashamed of was going home that night and scrubbing like mad at his skin in what had been a futile attempt at rubbing whatever it was that had made them hate him so much. 

It wasn’t until he had accidentally stumbled into the loud-mouthed brat that was Gajeel, spilling his glass of expensive lemonade down the other boy’s dress-shirt and being challenged to a death match that he finally felt like there was somewhere in London he could fit in. Because if there was one thing that Lily was good at it was fighting, and even back then he was pretty damn good. 

It had struck him sometime later that the best thing about his encounter with Gajeel that day was that the other boy had been the first person who’d taken a disliking to him, not because of the colour of his skin, but because of his own clumsy actions - it was almost laughable really.

“You’re putting too much weight into your swing” he commented as he studied Gajeel’s movements.

The other man only grunted in response but nonetheless made the adjustments to fix up his form. This time running through a series of defensive movements, pivoting around the ring in a random order which would work well to confuse his opponent.

“Nice idea but now you’re leaving yourself wide open on your left” he commented

“Well fuck Lily, why don’t you come and hop in the ring yourself instead of spouting bullshit from the side-lines” complained the other man in frustration.

Lily snorted at how easily he could get under Gajeel’s skin but nonetheless made his way across the room to where he knew he could find a spare pair of gloves.

Stepping into the ring he lightly jogged on the spot to warm up before sizing up his friend, “I hope you’re not as rusty as you look” he smirked.

“Well it’s not like all of us can spend all our spare time here,” replied Gajeel, though Lily had no problem catching the hidden message there.

The passing of Metallicana, present head of the household and holder of the family title, called for an exchange of power within the Redfox family. By default, Gajeel, who’d up until recently done everything in his power to avoid any and all communication with the aristocrat higher-ups had had to inherit the full weight of responsibility that had come with such a prestigious title.

 And from what Lily had observed, it was not going well for his friend.

“The ladies at court don’t seem to mind," he said, “they admire how _strong_ and _brave_ I am”

Gajeel let out a howl of laughter at that before making his move. His left hand swinging quickly through the air, aimed at Lily’s head.

Lily ducked, not missing a beat before aiming a low punch to his opponent’s stomach.

The other man groaned at the impact but quickly retaliated by wrapping his head in a tight headlock and letting loose a succession of his own punches.

Alright so maybe Gajeel wasn’t as rusty as he’d originally let on.

“What’s wrong old man, muscles not as fast as they once were?”

“Don’t get cocky” he spat, “and we’re only four months apart.”

Gajeel scoffed at that, “may as well be four decades.”

 

* * *

 

Ignoring the pulsing pain in his side, Gajeel went through his final pre-match warm-ups in the locker room. Upon reflection, it probably hadn’t been his best idea to provoke Lily before his big match. The man was tough and there was a reason he was known as one of the best- if not _the best­- ­­_ fighter in the city.

The eager chatter of the audience filling up the arena pulled his concentration back to the upcoming fight. The truth was that he didn’t really know much about his opponent. The word on the street was that he was one of the best Saber Tooth had to offer. A real heavy hitter.

Orga Nanagear, more famously known as _the_ _Black Lightning_ for the raw power he contained in his right fist which, if rumours were to be believed, were so powerful they let off a sound resembling a lightning clap when they hit their mark.

None of this really bothered Gajeel though, he’d made it his personal rule not to let himself overthink a fight before he got into the ring. He preferred to take things one blow at a time and trust his gut in the flow of battle.

But one thing he’d keep in mind is that if his opponent’s main offence lied in the power of his right fist, then he’d likely be looking to end this match with a single blow.

Gajeel knew how he’d have to play this.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the main event for the evening! I’m Chapati Lola lead commentator for the match,” the loud voice of the announcer was matched with the screaming roar of fans, “without further ado”

“It’s Showtime!”

Gajeel took that as his cue to enter, making a beeline to the raised platform, unfazed by the sheer volume and excitement of the fans.

“We have two very different fighters in the ring tonight and I think it’s safe to say that we are all in for a big treat!”

“First, on my right hand and fighting out of the red corner we have Gajeel Redfox, the _Iron Dragon_ representing _Fairy Tail_!” 

“If my notes are correct the _Iron Dragon_ was undefeated in the ring last season before mysteriously disappearing from the arena at the end of the tournament. Nobody has seen or heard from him since and well, to be honest, most of us thought he was dead. But fear not folks, it looks like the _Iron Dragon_ is back and ready to rumble!”

“Now across the ring and fighting out of the blue corner we have Orga Nanagear, the _Black Lighting_ of _Sabertooth_!”

“Orga has had an impressive run in the arena this season and I think we are all still getting goosebumps just thinking about last week’s match which ended with a single devastating blow. Orga packs a big punch and is no pushover – let’s just hope that the _Iron Dragon_ isn’t too rusty.”

Flexing his muscles Gajeel locked eyes with his opponent. The adrenaline coursed through him. It had been too damn long since he’d last been in the ring.

And for the first time in a long while, he felt _alive_.

And suddenly the match began.

Crouching to lower his centre of gravity Gajeel feigned a punch with his right fist before throwing a jab towards his opponent’s chin. 

His fist connected, knocking Orga back a few paces, Gajeel grinned at the man’s shocked reaction.

“You’re gonna’ pay for that little man” 

Orga lunged towards him.

Gajeel easily dodged but was surprised when his opponent came back upwards and planted his elbow into his stomach, sending a bolt of pain through his core.

Coughing up blood Gajeel didn’t miss a beat as he took another swing at the man. He landed a blow and followed that up with another as he aimed for his opponent's chin again.  Moving like a serpent he attacked from every direction, testing out the fancy footwork he worked on with Lily earlier.

The man didn’t seem to let up.

Gajeel was fast on his feet and was landing countless hits, but for every punch, he threw at Orga the other man took with little complaint. He was built like a stack of bricks.

Gajeel had gone up against many opponents in his time and even he could admit that Orga was one tough son of a bitch, but what was that saying again, the bigger they were the more fun it was to watch them fall. One thing that he’d picked up along the way was that every opponent had their weaknesses, he’d just have to look hard enough.

He was completely immersed in the fight, barely keeping track of the bell or what round of the match they were in. He was drenched in sweat and could feel the pain convulsing through his muscles. 

Gajeel’s arms ached, and he stumbled as he took a deep ragged breath. He would win this. Because right now everything else in his life was well and truly fucked and fighting was the one thing that he was good at.

“Let’s turn things up a notch”

This time he attacked to the left, propelling his fist into a tight arc and landing a deafening blow into the other man’s chest.

“I warned you, little man,” growled Orga, raising himself to his full height before delivering his signature move.

Gajeel smirked.

_So predictable._

Ducking out of the way and striking the man’s left side. The force of the blow lifted his opponent off balance and before he could recover Gajeel threw his entire weight into his next attack and sent a flying fist that hit him right in the square of his jaw.

The giant fell to the ground.

“Nice try, but you left yourself wide open.” He said between panted breaths

The bell rung.

The crowd went wild.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it looks like we have ourselves a winner! Give it up for Gajeel Redfox the _Iron Dragon_ of _Fairy Tail!_ ”

 

* * *

 

“Master Redfox,” addressed his advisor as he sauntered through the door of the large estate “we have received urgent news that requires your attention.”

The man shot him a look that told him that if he had been anyone other than the current head of the family, they wouldn’t have bothered to consult him in the first place.  
  
Gajeel had never taken a liking to his advisors, he’d never seen the point to all their meddling and political riff-raff. But if his father had personally selected and put his trust in them then he guessed he’d had no reason not to as well. Plus, it was too much of a hassle finding replacements – not with the sort of connections he had.

Gajeel ignored the man and continued his trek down the hall, not really caring that he was leaving a trail of blood along the insanely expensive carpet.

“It can wait till tomorrow," he said, not looking back.

“Please Milord, I’m afraid that the nature of this proposal requires an immediate and prompt response," said his advisor, “you do not want to risk making a fool of the Redfox name do you, Milord.”

Gajeel halted. He may be a bastard but _that_ he knew was way out of line.

He turned to face the man, feeling his anger spike “what did you just say?” He growled.

“The Mcgarden heir requests for your hand in marriage.”

 

 **A/N:** Sorry for the long wait, I got busy moving across the country (yay). Truthfully, I haven’t really got a plan for this fic yet- just a bunch of scenes I know I want to write. Soooo, if you guys have any special requests or ideas you’d like to see feel free to share them with me :D

~Zarlia


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N:** So sorry for the long wait, I was mugged at the train station and said thief ran away with my laptop and all my belongings. And being someone who doesn’t make a habit of backing things up I’ve kind of had to start from scratch with this story and many others. ☹

* * *

 

She had spent the better part of three weeks trapped between the walls of her bedroom and the national library. Desperately trying to cram every fact and statistic into her head about the man that was to be her husband. She had learnt about the history, the politics, the economics of his land- but who was she fooling, she knew that all this led nowhere, because none of those books could ever tell her anything useful; like what type of a man he was or how he would come to treat her.

She was scared.

She was angry.

But now, none of that mattered because by morning her coach would arrive on the doorstep of the Redfox estate and she would be offered up as the sacrificial lamb for the sake of her people.

This was a price that she was willing to pay, there was no question about that, but what nobody ever warned her about was just how lonely this path would be to walk. Sure, she had gone along to the celebrations held by her people, had been brought to tears by their thanks when they’d called her courageous, _brave_ , a dialysis for a country that needed a kidney transplant – but even still, she was completely alone in this.

How could they possibly expect her to fit into London society when she just barely pulled off the façade of grace and beauty in front of her two advisors, let alone the scrutiny of a hundred more eyes.

She couldn’t fit in, on that she was certain.

The ladies of the court were interested in the changing fashions, seasonal decorum, mindless gossip and chit-chat. There was no place in politics or in business for a lady in London. And though she would much rather resign herself to her world of literature and language, she couldn’t stand living in a society that patronised her for virtue of being female. _Don’t let anybody hear you say that_ , she the voice of her scolding advisors reverberated in her head.

Well if she didn’t embarrass herself first then she was sure to let her personal opinions slip at some stage and that would be the end of her run as a lady of London high. 

But if she embarrassed _him_ … She didn’t want to think about what he would do to her if, no _when,_ she did.

Resigning herself to the coach window seat she took in the beautiful winter’s white that caked the countryside. The tiny trickle of snowflakes disguising the dirt track and rancid stench leading to London. The view outside was beautiful, but knowing what lie underneath it all, it felt like a lie.

And maybe it was even the countryside mocking her that had been the last straw.

_Screw it all_ she thought before undoing the curtains and swinging her head out the coach so that her back was arched dangerously out and balancing so that she could look up and see the sky and taste the refreshing goodness of the snow.

This right now, here in this stuffy coach, were her final moments of freedom and she would be damned if she didn’t take advantage of it.

Her advisors would be in a fit if they could see her now. And the ladies of London high-

_Screw propriety._

She was determined to enjoy as much of her last moments of freedom as she possibly could.

“Pardon Milday,” came the smooth voice of a man.

_Shit._

Caught off guard she just barely maintained her balance as she scrambled precariously back into the safety of the coach.

“What were you doing,” he questioned, and she noted the hint of amusement in his voice.

_Just great_.

She took a moment to size him up. He was a handsome man, tall and lanky with striking orange hair that he secured into a neat pony tail. The fitted black gentlemen outwear he sported gave away the fact that he was well off. A member of London high society then?

She did her best to control her flustered state but instead found herself responding with a lame, “just tasting the snow.”

He chuckled, “and how is it?”

“Fine,” she shot back, deciding it was best not to draw this painful conversation out any longer than it had to be. 

“Well it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance milady, I am Sir Jett Barlett of House Beaumont.”

So, he was a member of London high.

_Just her luck._

“Nice to meet you,” she plastered on a smile, “Levy Mcgarden of house Mcgarden.”

For some reason, he seemed taken aback by her response and she instantly feared for the worst. Had word already gotten out about her incompetence?

“You don’t happen to be the same Mcgarden that is engaged to the Redfox heir, do you?” Questioned Jett.

She tensed, well, there was no point in lying about it. “Yes, that would be me.”

Her admission seemed to make him uncomfortable and he took sudden interest in staring off into the distance, pretending to focus his concentration towards steering his horse.

Finally breaking the silence, she asked, “what’s he like?”

Another pause and she could see the fear cross his face as he considered just how much he could tell her without putting himself in danger.

“We’ve crossed paths.” He started, still avoiding her eyes.

“Listen, you seem nice and I don’t know anything about your situation or how you ended up with such a bad hand, because you must have, to be engaged to Redfox. But he’s bad news. Plain and simple. If I were you I would get as far away from him as I could.”

That had not been what she had expecting and there was a moment of cold unwavering silence before she responded.

“W-well I’m afraid there’s no way out of it for me,” she whispered.

She met his gaze and was surprised to find that there was genuine concern reflected back at her.

“Well then I wish you all the best milady, but just so you know if you ever find that you need a place to stay your welcome at the Beaumont estate.”

Taking her silence as a cue, Jett dismissed himself and she watched as he veered his horse off and disappeared down a long gravel side road.

Levy felt sick.

She took a moment to try and process the new information.

Sure, she had heard about the rumours, she knew of his past and could probably even fill in the gaps to how he was treated around here. But to think that he was feared, she had seen the look in Jett’s eyes, the concern he felt towards her. Just what kind of a monster did he have to be for a complet stranger to offer up his house and home for her safety – an act that was way out of line not to mention completely scandalous and preposterous to even think about.

“We’re here milady,” the voice of the driver snapped her back to reality.

The whole world seemed to stop as she took in the Redfox Estate.

It was a gigantic collection of large iron pillars, windowless stone walls and an endless façade of shadows, giving off an aura of menace. It looked more like a forte than any home she had ever known.

_Home_.

This was to be her new home.

Her prison – well, it certainly looked the part.

The coach came to a halt at the entrance of the estate and the driver came around to greet her.

She felt her heartbeat quicken as she walked up the flight of stone steps and came to a stop in front of a large iron statue of a dragon that guarded the entrance.

Well as unfortunate as her situation was, at the very least it seemed that her advisors had been right about the family owning a large stake in iron ore – if the dagon was anything to go by.

She heard voices from the other side of the door and though she knew it was rude, she couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“What did you expect, you’re turning 24 in a few months.”

“I don’t fucking need this Lil,” responded a gruff voice. “My life is complexed enough without adding some high strung gossipy harlot to it.”

“I think you’re over reacting,” said the first voice, “besides you haven’t even met her.”

“I haven’t got the time or patience to put up with someone who’s used to living off daddy’s money. Besides you know that’s all she wants me for, and I’ll bet she’ll be fine and dandy moving along to the next chap who can offer ‘er a better deal. I’m not interested.”

Levy couldn’t believe what she had just heard.

For the past few weeks she had been studying him and his country. She had crammed every fact, every statistic into her head in her hopeless attempt at trying to rationalise it all. She had tried her very hardest to find another angle on their whole situation and to look on the bright side of things.

She had been willing to accept him – to give him a chance.

And now the cold hard truth of it all seemed to crash into her.

She was a fool for romanticising that this could be anything more than what it was: a business transaction, an economic solution, a political ruse.

She should have known better.

 

* * *

 

To hell with Lily, and the advisors and anybody out there who thought that this was a good idea.

Gajeel had just about had enough of it all.

What did he have to do to get it through their thick skulls that he didn’t need _this_. A _wife_. _Marriage_. It wasn’t just some magic pill that would solve all his problems. And whatever pot they were all smoking to convince them that this was a good idea – he wanted some of it too.

He’d been about to voice his thoughts to Lily when a pathetic sounding sob echoed through the room from the other side of the hall.

_Shit_.

If he didn’t know any better, and if his ears weren’t deceiving him, that had sounded like a very feminine sob. That could only mean…

If he put two and two together and this wasn’t another one of Lily’s string of heartbroken fangirls – then it could only be _her._

The very topic of their discussion and the one thing her had been dreading for the past few weeks.

He looked up and registered the shock in Lily’s eyes.

Well it’s not like he could manage to screw this up any further than he already had.

Sure, this had turned out to be the worst possible first impression he could have made – and he _had_ been planning to be as rude and unaccommodating as he possibly could to try and drive her away anyways-  so what did it even matter.

“Oi, whoever’s there show yerself.”

There was a pause, but she didn’t move.

“Yer’ know it’s rude to eavesdrop,” he edged on.

This time the door opened just a fraction and a lone figure crept through.

From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew he was screwed.

The first thing that he noticed was how incredibly small she was and the sheer size of the room they were in only exacerbated this feature.

Her azure locks were wild from the weather outside, and he took in the desperate, frightened tears brimming in her big brown eyes. For reasons unknown to him, he found that he didn’t like seeing tears there.

She looked nothing like what he’d been expecting. But she was without a doubt the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on.

“Well?” He questioned, disliking how she flinched away from his voice.

He watched as she physically trembled and it struck him that she was wearing nothing but a gauzy cropped dress that would in no way grant her any comfort from the cold. _The hell was she thinking._

“You’re going to catch death in that,” he commented.

“Well maybe that’d be for the best.” Her voice was surprisingly measured, and she wiped the tears from her eyes before somehow mustering up the courage to meet his gaze.

He smirked at what he saw in them.

She had hell to pay. And before he knew it, she was marching towards him, halting just a foot away from him.

It was almost comical how he towered over her, but still, she didn’t back down.   
  
“Let me make myself clear,” she said in a tone that commanded respect and he found that he liked the sound of her voice, not at all like the high-pitched screeching he had usually been subjected to. “Now that I know where you stand regarding our whole situation, let me tell you that I’m here for nothing other than the sake of my people. Our two houses have signed a contract and it’s our jobs to see that through.”

“Is that all?” He bit out a response.

He almost laughed at the look on her face- god he hoped she didn’t think that that was supposed to be scary – and before he could say another word she turned around and marched herself back towards the door.

He watched as her newly appointed handmaids hurried out the doors after her. Well looks like they could get her settled in.

This had not at all been what he had been expecting. _Che, the girl has guts._

He liked that.

Lily smirked at him.

Ignoring the grinning bastard, he turned swiftly on his heel and made for his bedroom.

_Perhaps this whole situation wouldn’t be as bad as he’d thought._

 

* * *

 

**A/N:** Well that’s a wrap. Let me know what you all think- I love hearing your thoughts, opinions and ideas


	4. Chapter 4

Levy was furious.

She practically slammed the door behind her, the thundering clap that followed loud enough to startle her driver who immediately spurted back up to attention at her presence. 

Just who did he think he was?  He’d been so cocky and arrogant and demeaning, and she hated that stupid shit-eating grin that he had plastered on that stupid face of his.

He had acted like this whole thing was a joke, and it infuriated her.

She wanted to punch something - _hard_ \- preferably his face.

But there was no denying that the thing that completely mortified her was how _she_ had acted just then.

In all her life she’d not once been so rude to someone, and where the hell had all that confidence come from?

She had never lost her temper like that before, not to her father, her advisors or heck even that spiteful gardener who she swore had a vendetta against her and poisoned all her flowers.  She had been raised better than that – to take just about anything with her chin held high and her shoulders squared.

And yet she had been downright hostile towards him. In her defence her hostility hadn’t been unprovoked, but still, what the heck happened to maintaining that ladylike aura of grace and elegance? She felt like she was letting down her advisors, and all the people who were counting on her.

Perhaps all the pent-up stress and anxiety was finally getting to her and she was finally going to go insane.

_What a mess._

She hadn’t meant for things to play out like that at all and now she didn’t know if she could fix _it_. _It_ being their relationship, or marriage or business deal or whatever the hell they’d decided to call it. 

Obviously, it wasn’t realistic for her to expect them to be the best of pals from day one, but at the very least she’d wanted them to be civil towards each other. And now, she didn’t think that she’d ever be able to look him in the eyes again.

“Pardon milady,” came a soft voice from behind her.

She turned around and was met with a tall white-haired girl, “allow me to introduce myself your highness, my name is Shagotte, your new handmaid.” The girl bowed.

Taking the girl in, Levy realised that she couldn’t have been much older than herself. She had skin paler than anything Levy had ever seen and thin, angled eyes that were the same silver as the iron pillars around her. 

“Call me Levy” she said on instinct.

“Pardon milady, but that would be improper.”

“Please,” she offered a smile to the other girl.

“U-uhm okay then… _Levy”_

“See, now that wasn’t too bad.”

“No, your highn- _Levy,_ ” the girl bowed again.

She found herself laughing at the irony of it; _all the titles and formalities in the world couldn’t save her from her own behaviour._

“Please, let me show you to your room” said Shagotte, “don’t worry about all your luggage the servants will have it delivered shortly.”

Levy nodded and followed the girl back through the grand entrance, thanking her lucky stars that her husband to be had already vacated.

White marble shone at her feet, flowing to countless doors and a sweeping staircase. Traces of Iron adorned every staircase, window and ceiling of the place in intricate patterns and engravings. There was no doubt about it, the place was beautiful- _breathtaking_ \- but she didn’t know if she could ever feel at home. 

It felt too cold. Clinical, and she couldn’t escape the unnerving sensation of being watched. 

Another thing she knew that she would never get used to was the size of this place. Her poor sense of direction would mean that she’d probably get lost on the way to the bathroom one day and end up lost in this labyrinth of twists and turns until eventually she would die of dehydration or starvation and then she would have to spend her afterlife as a ghost. Haunting these creepy halls, wreaking havoc and seeking vengeance on unsuspecting betrothed heiresses like herself. And that just didn’t work for her. Not when she aspired to become the friendly ghost next door.

They walked through halls lined with even more iron sculptures of ferocious predators- hawks, lions, pumas – and a trophy hall with glass cabinets of swords and armour. So far, she had seen no sign of a dungeon—no shouts or pleas from hidden chambers below. At least that had to count for something.

As they made their way round another twist in the silver labyrinth, she found herself walking down a lush hallway lined with family crests, heirlooms and oil painted portraits of ancestors. They all looked so grand, and mighty, intimidating in a way that made the skin on her neck crawl in spite of the fact that she knew that they were just portraits.

She found herself halting in front of the last portrait that lined the wall. The most recent portrait, that of Metalicana.

The resemblance was uncanny.

He was practically an older version of Gajeel. The same remarkable red eyes, identical facial features and most irritatingly, the same shit eating grin that seemed to drive her mad. Other than the wild black mane that Gajeel fashioned, she could’ve mistaken them for being before and after photos of the same person. 

“It’s incredible isn’t it, how similar they look,” said Shagotte, noticing Levy’s interest in the portraits.

“Yeah, kind of scary.”

“The two of them were a lot alike.”

Levy nodded at that and she knew it was terrible to think it, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to deal with _two of them._

“We should continue, Milady.”

She nodded absentmindedly and drew her eyes away from the portrait before she trailed after Shagotte once again.

At last they arrived.

“These are your quarters,” announced Shagotte as she led the way through a large set of double doors.

The bedroom was larger than her entire throne room back home. Its walls were light grey, delicately sketched with patterns of silver, and the mouldings were platinum as well. She might have thought it tacky had the ivory furniture and rugs not complemented it so well. The gigantic bed was of a similar colour scheme, and the curtains that hung from the towering headboard drifted in the faint breeze from the open dome skylight ceiling.  And tucked in a corner to the far right of the room, was a beautiful dressing table with a mirror framed in silver. 

But the thing that made her almost weep with joy was the full sets of large iron bookshelves that lined the outer left walls of the bedroom. Volumes upon volumes of novels, poetry, encyclopedias, journals and various other types of literature filled the shelves in a wonderous rainbow and Levy felt her heart flutter with happiness in a way that she hadn’t felt since her father had passed.

“Your advisors informed us that you liked books,” said Shagotte, though she couldn’t have possibly fathomed just how much of an understatement that was.

Levy had always imagined that the surge of love she felt at the sight of books was equivalent to what a mother might experience when first united with her newborn.

Embarrassingly she realised that she might as well have been drooling. “Yes, very much, I uh- thank you so much for this.”

The girl beamed at her. “No problem at all milady. The bath is through the door over there and you’ll find a full set of fresh clothes and gowns in the closet,” she said whilst pointing to the various items.

“Please let me know if you ever need anything, I’ll leave you now to get settled in, your luggage should be delivered shortly, and I’ll come back at six to help you get ready for your dinner with young master Redfox.”

She felt her mood sour a little at the thought of dinner.

“Right, thank you Shagotte.” She said as the girl closed the doors on her way out, leaving Levy to explore her new quarters.

She could hardly control her excitement as she rushed over to the bookshelves, hungrily making note of all the new and unfamiliar titles before her. Picking out a beautiful looking text on ancient language structures she happily lost herself to her familiar world of books.

_Perhaps this whole situation wouldn’t be as bad as she’d thought._

 

* * *

 

“Back so soon Gajeel,” teased Mira as she handed him his sixth drink of the hour.

He grunted at the comment but managed to hold his tongue.  

There was something about Mira that had always unnerved him, and he wasn’t the only one. There weren’t many who could manage a place like Fairy Tail, with patrons who collected sin like precious diamonds. Brawls and fights were constant, and most nights spilt more blood than whiskey.

Yet when Mira told any of them to cut it out, the men and women ceased. They adjusted their grimy collars, spat onto the dirty wooden floor and continued with their drinks as though nothing happened at all. She was known as the she-devil. Arguably, the most fearsome woman in this part of London. And he didn’t make a habit of turning his back on fearsome women.

“Where’s yer cute lookin’ friend?” Questioned Cana.

What did he have to do these days to just be left alone to enjoy his drink in peace?

“Hell, if I know what Lil’ gets up to,” he said and made a shooing motion with his hands.

 “Ah shucks don’t be like that,” she continued. “You wanna’ know what a little birdy told me?”

He scowled, not liking one bit where this conversation was heading.

“Well is it true? Is our little Gajeel gettin’ hitched? And to think that you didn’t tell me! So, who’s the unlucky gal?”

“It’s none of your business, damn nosy woman.”

“Ah, trouble in paradise?” She edged on. “Oye Mira, guess what! Gajeel ‘ere is gettin’ hitched! Can we get a round on the house to celebrate?”

It seemed that the word of an impending wedding had the other girl whipping round in avid interest, a scary spark in her eyes. “Oh my, Congratulations Gajeel! I’m so happy for you. When’s the wedding? Have you chosen a venue? I know this beautiful place in the countryside that would be perfect for a spring wedding. Oh, and have you thought about the colour-”

Gajeel got up to leave. Why was it that his entire life was being consumed by this whole fiasco, it was like a plague, managing to spread to the one place he had always relied on to escape it all.

“Gajeel.”

He froze, not daring to take another step.

“Sit back down and discuss the wedding with us.” Her voice was colder than anything he had ever known, and he couldn’t bring himself to think about the consequences of disobeying her.   

He gulped and did as the she-devil instructed. A chill running down his spine.

_The next time he saw Lily, he was going to kill him._

It was late afternoon by the time he finally escaped _Fairy Tail_ , and by then he’d learnt more about the different ways to fold a napkin to last an afterlife.

He knew that he had dinner coming up that afternoon with _her_. It was immature, but he felt that if he dehumanised _it_ and didn’t acknowledge _that thing_ as a real thing that was happening then maybe she and it would fade away, like a bad nightmare.

Or maybe he was finally going insane.

It took considerable effort to resist the urge to take a detour down some forgotten alleyway and skip out on the whole night.

The only thing that had stopped him was the dread that, if she was anything like the women he knew, then she would only use it as ammunition against him. And knowing just how much Lady luck despised him, this whole nightmare would probably come into fruition and she would be shooting this back at him for the rest of his life.

He shuddered as he remembered that one night at _Fairy Tail_ , at about four in the morning when most of the patrons had cleared out and that idiot Laxus had stumbled into the establishment – completely drunk off his ass and flirting with anything that had a heartbeat. He had never feared for another man’s life quite like he had in that moment when he witnessed Mira explode. She’d recited every sin that the man had ever committed, alphabetically, chronologically, and escalating with each accusation. It had gone on like a symphony until eventually the man had relented, been reduced to his knees and begging for mercy.  Women, he had concluded after that night, were just pure _evil_. 

So really, he was only attending as a matter of self-preservation.

“Welcome back, young master Gajeel,” greeted Shagotte at his arrival, her voice oddly frazzled.  

He almost walked by without a care, but then he took in her dishevelled state. _Hmph, looks like he would be getting his revenge sooner than he thought._

“Good to be back. So, how was Lily?” He questioned smugly, in a manner resembling that of a kid who’d just discovered that his best friend had a crush on someone.

He almost laughed at the deep blush that tainted her face.

 “You don’t have to answer him,” said Lily as he smoothly sauntered in from the shadows in the corner of the room. Gajeel made a mental note to avoid that corner from here on out.

The tension was palpable, and he raised a brow at Lily. 

To his surprise it was Shagotte, and not Lily that spoke up.

“Excuse me, I didn’t realise that it was almost six, I should… uhm… go collect Milady for dinner,” she said before she bowed and hurriedly ran off down the hall.

The scathing look that Lily sent his way was almost as bad as the one he received from Mira earlier. But to hell with Lily, because if the other man hadn’t been such a goddamn gossip monger than he wouldn’t have been so ticked off just now. He was the victim here. The one whose brain had exploded after three tortured hours of discussing colour schemes and the hottest trends for wedding invitations.

 “All those rich suitable young heiresses fighting over you and you go after one of my staff?” He said with a smirk. 

He knew that the two of them had history.

Recalled that night when Lily had first brought her in, how she had clung to him as if her life had depended on it. And he’d never seen Lily look at someone like he had her.  
  
Even then it had been obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of them cared deeply for each other. Belonged together in a way that made even him – stone cold iron heart and all – kind of jealous. 

 He didn’t know the details of her circumstances, but the little he gleamed from Lily informed him that she too was from Edolas; a city so hopeless that it had been abandoned even by its own government.

“None of your business, Gajeel.” The warning in the other man’s tone made it clear that they were done here.

Fine, whatever. He knew to leave it at that, which suited him fine because he wasn’t one to pry into other people’s business. Not when he had his own shitstorm to deal with.

Speaking of shitstorms.

“I need a drink,” he huffed.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

He snorted at Lily’s reply, “as if I’d trust your judgement.”

Lily’s deep chuckle reverberated through the halls. And just like that, he knew that the two of them were good.

Did he know that drinking before meeting Levy was probably a terrible idea? Of course he did, but he also knew that he needed it. Desperately needed something to take the edge off, or else he’d do something insane, like fall in love with her handmaid instead.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Levy noticed when she walked into the dining hall was the table.

It was a long table, the same size as the ones they hosted state dinners at back home. Laden with food and drink – so much food; hot and glorious and she had to double check herself to make sure that her watering mouth hadn’t escalated into drool.

She spotted Gajeel immediately after that.

He sat at the head of the table with an expression so unpleasant that it almost made her loose her appetite.

Almost.

 _You’re only here for the food_ , she reminded herself dutifully.

And so she plastered on a smile and forced herself into the seat adjacent to him.

The plain black tunic he wore was accented only with a large wing-like ornament covering his right arm which was attached by a large metal stud. He looked like he was dressed more for a fight than dinner.

It was then that she noticed the large scars along his arms, deep gouges that looked every bit as painful as the expression on his face. There were fresh one too, scratches and bruises, and she didn’t want to consider what he had gone through to gain them. And again, the warnings of Jett echoed in her head. _Monster_.

She averted her eyes and watched as he filled a glass of an unknown liquid from an exquisitely cut crystal decanter. He looked towards her then and gestured towards her empty glass.

She nodded and moved her glass forwards. It crossed her mind a split second later that he might have poisoned her drink, so she waited until he drank deeply from his own glass – as if he needed it – before she made a move to take a sip of her own drink.

She almost spat it straight back out and knew that she must’ve made a face because he started chuckling.

“Don’t tell me ye’ve never had a drink before sweetheart,” he tormented.

“I have, but what is this stuff? Poison?!”

He shot her one of his signature shit-eating grins. “Whiskey, actually.”

The truth was that she had never had anything stronger than those watered-down champagnes they served as canapes. But he didn’t need to know that.

She changed the topic, “should we eat?”

He nodded and moved to serve himself, stacking on a huge pile of food onto his plate before realising that he she hadn’t made a move.

“Just uhm… help yourself,” he said and offered her one of the serving utensils.

She flashed him her best smile and took up his offer.

Okay, so what if they’d just now decided to forgo centuries of dining etiquette in favour of just “helping themselves.” She was cool with that, in fact she quite preferred this to patiently sitting through a 5-course meal and being forced to make painful dinner conversation.

He was so different from any of the potential suitors she had been introduced to in the past. He was brash and direct and painfully annoying. But she got the feeling that he was also honest. There were no pretences, no hidden agendas with him. What you saw was pretty much what you got. And well, she found that she liked that.

Not that she liked _him_. No, she could definitely never like him.

She took a bite of the chicken she had picked up and was surprised to find that even the food had a metallic aftertaste to it.

But even so there was no denying that this was just about the best meal she had ever had in her life. She fought to contain the moan of pure ecstasy she had gotten from the explosion of flavours in her mouth. The chicken was cooked to perfection; a masterpiece of crunchy goodness on the outside and wonderful juiciness in the middle, and paired with a sweet lemon honey sauce that was so delicious that she felt her toes curl in.

 “It’s good ain’t it shrimp,” noted Gajeel and she could only nod as she enthusiastically helped herself to another serving of the heavenly dish.

He poured himself another drink. And she took the time to mentally prepare herself.

“Listen about earlier, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot,” she started, “I didn’t mean to be so rude to you. I _uhm_ , think that we should- can we _uh_ \- what do you say we start over?”

  
“Don’t sweat it shrimp,” he said in between chews.

“Don’t call me that.”

He looked at her clueless.

“My name is Levy.”

“Yeah okay shrimp.”

She chose to ignore it for the moment, bringing her attention back to the main task at hand.

“So, can we start over? Let’s make a deal to at least be civil with each other okay?”

He regarded her again with a strange look in his eyes and for a second she’d thought that he was going to refuse. And maybe it was all that alcohol he’d consumed that she had to thank.

“Yeah alright, shrimp.”

 

* * *

 

 **A/N:** Yay! We finished on a high for once, I’m so excited to continue this and thank you for all your great suggestions so far (I’ll be incorporating as many as I possibly can into this fic). Let me know what you all think of this chapter- I love hearing your thoughts, opinions and ideas

Until Next time

~Zarlia! 


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